


your delivery needs work

by shera_sparkles



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora and Catra are pizza delivery girls, Adora works for pizza hut, But also friendship, Catra works for Domino's, F/F, Pizza AU, Rivalry, adora plays baseball, also seamista, anyway they're dorks, background Perfuma/Entrapta i guess?, bow is a theatre kid, idk it's really gay, pizza delivery au, pizza restaurant au, so do glimmer and perfuma, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 19:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shera_sparkles/pseuds/shera_sparkles
Summary: Adora is a stubborn and dedicated Pizza Hut employee, and pizza is her life. When she meets Catra, an uninterested Domino's employee, the day they deliver pizzas to the same building, she immediately declares her an enemy... but she doesn't expect to see her again. Or after that. Or to start to want to see her... and she certainly wasn't expecting to develop a crush.





	your delivery needs work

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first She-Ra fanfiction (or Ao3 fanfiction in general)! Dedicated to @flflower on tumblr for her lovely request. Enjoy!
> 
> The formatting might be a bit weird but I don't feel like editing it, so... here we are

“Ugh, _finally._ I’m _starving_ ,” Glimmer groans, flopping upright from her spot on the sofa.

  
“Don’t forget to leave a good tip! It’s, like, eleven at night,” Adora calls as Glimmer makes her way to the door. Bow laughs from where he’s lying on the floor.

 

“The pizza industry––so protective of fellow employees, even unknown ones. Who knew,” he says. Adora sticks out her tongue at him.

 

Glimmer returns a couple minutes later, holding the pizza box proudly, and sets it on the table. Adora and Bow immediately crowd around like the starving wild animals they are. “Yes!” Bow exclaims, opening the box to reach for a slice, but Adora crosses her arms.  


“Wait a minute,” says Adora, looking up at Glimmer in contempt. “Did you order from––”  
  
Glimmer’s eyes widen when she sees where this is going. “Adora, don’t––”  


“ _Papa John’s?!”_ Adora exclaims, jumping to her feet. “Glimmer, come on! That’s so disrespectful! Everyone knows that Pizza Hut is the _only_ place any of us should be ordering from. We have to respect my lineage!”  
  
“Your _lineage?_ Adora, it’s _pizza_ ,” whines Glimmer. “Anyway, Papa John’s is closer and I’m hungry now!”

 

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” Adora shakes her head vehemently. “I won’t eat it. I could lose my _job_.”

 

“Ador _aaa_ ,” Glimmer complains. “You _know_ that’s not true!”

 

Bow, who’s already halfway done with his slice of pizza, reaches out and pokes Adora on the arm. “Mmm,” he says, “this pizza is delicious. You’re really missing out. Remember when you said you were _so hungry_ you could eat Swift Wind?”

 

“I can’t believe that eating _one_ Papa John’s pizza is disrespectful, but threatening to slaughter and consume our school mascot isn’t,” Glimmer grumbles.

 

Adora tears her gaze away from Bow and his piece of pizza. “I know what you’re doing, Bow, and it won’t work.”  
  
Bow extracts another piece and lifts it towards her, waving it in the air like a ghost. “It’s soooo goooood… and aren’t you _starving_ ? Don’t you need _fuel_ for more _studying_?”

 

Adora looks at the pizza and whimpers, then shoots out her arm and grabs it. “Fine, but only just this once. And you _can’t_ tell Seahawk! He’d be heartbroken.”

 

“That’s more like it,” says Bow proudly.

 

“Let’s get back to studying,” Glimmer insists around a mouthful of food, pointing at her textbook. Glimmer is not above talking with her mouth full. “You’d think having my _mom_ as my Astronomy teacher would make my life easier, but _noooo_. She _has_ to make everything _exponentially_ more difficult.”  
  
“I kind of understand the lesson,” Bow says helpfully. “Let me teach you. Adora? Do you want help with your outline?”  
  
Adora doesn’t reply because she’s _really freaking hungry_ _okay_ and she’s too busy scarfing down her second slice of pizza.

  
_____

 

“ _Ughhhh_.”

 

“That was a very expressive one!”

 

“I _hate_ coming into work for the stupid graveyard shift! If Shadow Weaver would just _recognize_ that my time is valuable and let me study behind the counter, then that’d be different! But she doesn’t listen. Why does she hate me anyway? Is it because I spilled ink in her bag that one time? Because that was an accident, okay, and she shouldn’t be so uptight! God.”

 

“Hmm, if I remember right, that was totally on purpose,” Scorpia recounts from where she’s  scrubbing at a grease smudge on one of the tables.

 

“I wasn’t there for that, but it sounds like something you’d do,” Entrapta agrees, barely looking up from her calc homework.

 

Catra groans again. “Look. Why do we even need a delivery service? All the apartments are, like, a five minute walk from campus. And no one besides students would order from the _Etheria University Domino’s_ anyway. Are they lazy or just stupid?”

 

“I don’t know, Catra,” says Scorpia, looking up. “But maybe you should take those orders now? Don’t want them to pile up.”  
  
Catra shoots her a look, but groans with finality, making sure her annoyance comes across. She scoops up the boxes of pizza on the counter. “I’ll be back in like forty minutes or something,” she grumbles, and stalks out of the restaurant.

 

“And that’s three in a row. I win again!” Catra hears Entrapta exclaim, finishing her and Scorpia’s tic-tac-toe game, as the door closes behind her.

 

The best part of her job? Getting to drive around by herself with no one bothering her.

 

In the car––or rather, Catra’s battered Mazda with a Domino’s sticker slapped on the back, considering the lack of a budget to accommodate Shadow Weaver’s desire for delivery––Catra sighs, banging her head against the cushion on her seat. She doesn’t even need this dead-end job. She could leave whenever she wanted.

 

Okay. Maybe that’s not strictly true. Catra’s grades are… well, suffice it to say it’s not like she has scholarships lining up at her door, which leaves her… kind of desperate for money to stay enrolled. And she _needs_ this school. If she goes to college, if she graduates with a degree, at least that means she’s going somewhere. Earning something.

 

She reaches for her phone, plugging it in and blasting her favorite playlist–– _no, it’s not emo music, Scorpia, and also you don’t know what an emo is so shut up_. So what if she listens to a lot of Panic! At The Disco and My Chemical Romance, okay? She shouldn’t be judged for her opinions.

  
_____

 

Adora is ready. She is _excited_ . She is going to _deliver_ some _pizza_.

 

The best part of her job? Seeing people smile when she hands them their food. That’s worth more than any tip.

 

As she pulls into the parking lot of the apartment building she’s delivering to, humming along to the Diana Ross song on the radio, Adora notices a battered Mazda pulling up across the parking lot. There is a Domino’s sticker on the back. Adora frowns. Domino’s is like… her least favorite rival pizza company.

 

As Adora gets out of the car, she glances over, trying to be as sly as possible, and sees another girl getting out of the Domino’s car, also holding a medium pizza. Adora tries to hold back a growl.

 

What? Competitive? _Nah_. She isn’t competitive.

 

The Domino’s girl, who has a wild mane of brown hair––Adora could insult her lack of care for her hair, but it’s frankly kind of cute––is already heading for the door, looking bored. Adora scrambles to follow––at a distance. What if they’re going to the _same apartment?_ No, Adora chides herself, that would be ridiculous.

 

She cares _way_ too much about this.

 

Inside, the girl starts for the elevator, but Adora is not taking any chances. She bolts for the stairs.

 

“That’s right, Domino’s girl,” she says to herself, smirking as she climbs. “If we’re both going to the second floor, _I’m_ going to get there first.”  
  
Adora has never climbed stairs so fast in her life. She takes them three at a time and stumbles out at the top, pushing onto the second floor. She scans the area wildly, trying to see if she has, in fact, beaten the other girl, and is rewarded with the sight of the elevator doors sliding open just as she’s stepping out into the hallway.

 

Domino’s Girl steps out and looks around, bored, and for the first time, they make eye contact.

 

Adora’s eyes glance down to the girl’s nametag–– _Catra_ ––and then back up to her face. The girl raises an eyebrow, probably confused by how out of breath Adora is after racing up all those stairs. They stand there staring at each other for a second, and then Adora just. _Bolts_.

 

A-203, A-203… She scans the numbers over the doors, looking for the right apartment. When she realizes she’s going the wrong way, she careens to a stop and races back the other way, passing Domino’s Girl–– _Catra_ ––who’s walking at a perfectly leisurely pace. Okay. That’s a little embarrassing. _It’s fine, Adora. You’ll recover._

 

Adora finally finds A-203 and skids to a stop, satisfied she has found her destination first––but then she looks up and watches Catra stalk on up to the apartment right next door. A-204.

 

“Oh, come on,” Adora says loudly.

 

“What’s your deal?” Catra asks. Not in a particularly rude way. She just sounds curious. And a little confused. Which, okay, that’s fair.

 

“Did you know,” Adora says, trying to get her brain to catch up to the rest of her body, “that Pizza Hut is a full star higher than Domino’s for average ratings on Yelp?”

 

Catra looks at her quizzically. “Why do you _know_ that?”  
  
Instead of answering, Adora knocks on the door to the apartment. Catra rolls her eyes and knocks as well.

 

Adora’s door opens first, and she brightens, slipping into her customer service voice––which is pretty much just her normal happy voice. “One medium pepperoni pizza,” she says happily. “That’ll be $11.99, please.”

 

“Sure,” says the customer, a girl who looks to be in her late 20s. She hands over the cash plus tip, and Adora hands her the pizza with a smile. Meanwhile, Catra’s door is opening.

 

“$13.99,” says Catra flatly when the guy opens the door.

 

“Thanks,” says the guy, fumbling to get the money out of his wallet.

 

Adora’s customer leans out the door, suddenly intrigued. “George?” she asks.

 

Catra’s customer looks over at her, and his jaw drops. “Sandy! I didn’t know you lived next door to me. Small world, huh?”

 

“I know, right?” says Sandy. “This is crazy! In a pizza mood too, huh?”

 

“Yeah, I’m in studying tonight,” says George.

 

Adora and Catra stare at each other, mouths hanging open.

 

“Well, thanks, ma’am,” says Adora, tearing her eyes back to her customer. “Have a great night!”

 

Catra snatches the money from where George is holding it out, still talking to the other customer, and falls into step next to Adora as they head for the elevator.

 

“That was weird,” says Catra as Adora presses the button to call the elevator.

 

“What did your customer order?” asks Adora, pride flaring, because she’s pretty sure she already knows the answer.

 

“Medium pepperoni, same as yours,” Catra replies, lifting an eyebrow.

 

“Ha!” Adora pushes a finger in Catra’s face, smiling triumphantly. “That’s a whole _two dollars_ _more_ for the same pizza! See? Pizza Hut!”

 

“Maybe ours is better quality, though,” points out Catra, scowling as she crosses her arms.

 

Adora gasps, completely affronted. “How _dare_ you? Everyone knows Pizza Hut is the best pizza company out there! I had my very first slice of pizza from Pizza Hut two years ago.”

 

Catra leans forward, a startled laugh slipping out. “You had pizza for the first time only _two years_ ago? How old are you, like, nineteen?”

 

Adora’s mouth flops open and shut again as the elevator door slides open. “Yeah, nineteen,” she says finally, as they both step in. “And I… had… a sheltered childhood, okay? Or something like that. And now pizza is my life. So.”  
  
“Your _life?”_ Catra’s eyebrows shoot up. She has very expressive eyebrows, Adora keeps noticing, which isn’t a bad facial feature to have.

 

Not that it matters.

 

Adora feels her face getting hot. “I just mean it’s like… my favorite food. And also my job. Even though it doesn’t pay that well. And also I have it a lot with my friends. So. In that way it’s my life.”  
  
Catra crosses her arms again. “You’re weird.” Her eyes drift down to Adora’s nametag, and she squints like she can’t read it from this distance.

 

“Adora,” says Adora. “Catra, right?”

 

Catra looks down at her own nametag, like she’s checking to make sure it is in fact there, and Adora is not psychic. “Yeah. Good to meet you, or whatever.”  
  
“Not really,” says Adora. She leans forward, trying to seem threatening. “I still hate Domino’s. In fact, I kind of have to declare you my enemy.”

 

“Yeah, well––ugh! Can this elevator _be_ any slower?” Catra cries, throwing her hands up in the air.

 

Adora’s eyes fall on the button panel, and her face heats up again. “Uh. We didn’t push… any of the buttons.”

 

“Oh.” Catra scratches at her ear. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

  
_____

 

“...or else you are that shrewd and… uh…”

 

“Knavish,” prompts Mermista, looking at the script.

 

“Knavish sprite,” Bow continues, and then stops, flopping his head down on the counter. “I’ve been practicing this monologue for _hours_ and I still don’t know it any better.”

 

“That’s because it’s actually been ten minutes,” says Mermista, pointing at the little clock they keep on the counter.

 

“I swear, Glimmer, she had no respect for the pizza business,” Adora is saying vehemently, swiping her washcloth over the counter. “Like, you could tell she hadn’t memorized _any_ of Domino’s statistics. How else is she supposed to know how bad they are?”

 

“Well, Adora, I mean… no one is as devoted to their job as you are,” Glimmer points out. Adora turns to shoot something back, mouth gaping open, when Seahawk waltzes into the room.

 

“Everyone, this room needs to be spotless!” he practically sings. “Our dinner rush will be coming through any minute now, and we don’t want them to think we don’t respect our establishment, do we? Mermista!”

 

Mermista looks over at him, not even batting an eye at his intensity. “Yeah?”

 

“How many pizzas do we have in the ovens right now?” Seahawk demands.

 

“Um. Enough,” says Mermista, still leaning forward against the counter.

 

“Excellent! Thank you, milady,” Seahawk says, reaching out to kiss her hand. Mermista’s face turns bright red, and she snatches her hand away.

 

“Hey, Seahawk!” Bow announces, excited. “Look, guys, it’s everyone’s favorite manager!”

 

“Why hello, Bow,” says Seahawk, noticing him. “Hey! That rhymed. Exquisite. Are you working on your lines?”  
  
“Yeah, for _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ ,” says Bow. He frowns. “I remember all the little parts, but I always forget how they go together.”

 

“Hey, Seahawk, do you have any deliveries for me to take?” pipes up Adora.

 

“Not at the moment,” he says, “but keep an eye on those phones! We must be vigilant! The customer can _not_ be kept waiting for more than two seconds at _any_ time!”

 

Adora salutes. “Yes sir!”

 

Considering who her manager is, It’s no wonder Adora is this intense about her job. She whirls around to stare at the phone on the counter, leaning over it, unblinking.

 

Glimmer pats her on the arm. “Not that vigilant.”

 

“What do you think that Domino’s girl is doing right now?” Bow says slyly to Adora, pushing his script to the side.

 

“Catra?” Adora asks, looking up at him as she leans her elbows on the counter. The corners of her mouth turn down into a frown. “Probably skulking or whatever Domino’s employees do when they’re not delivering the bread of Satan.”  


“See, this is what I mean,” Glimmer says, pointing at her. “ _This_ is what I think is a little overkill.”  
  
“I think it’s _underkill_ ,” Seahawk affirms. “Pizza Hut must be the very lifeblood of my employees. I want our tomato sauce running through your veins!”

 

“I hate it here,” Mermista grumbles.

 

“Mermista, have you done any work at all since you got hired?” Glimmer asks pointedly.

 

Mermista looks a little offended that Glimmer would suggest such a thing. “No.”

 

“She’s a terrible employee, actually,” says Bow. “I don’t know how she keeps her job.”

 

“I think I’m just here for the aesthetic,” Mermista offers.

 

“ _Anyway_ ,” says Bow, steering the conversation back towards Adora, “what was her name again? Catrina?”

 

“Catra,” Adora says immediately.

 

“What’d she look like?”  
  
“She had, like, this really messy brown hair,” Adora starts, rubbing at the back of her neck, “and dark eyes, and like, brown skin, and she kind of carried herself like she thought she was super important, but also really bored like Mermista… I don’t know, her eyelashes were really long? But like, I don’t remember her _that_ well, duh, it _has_ been like three days…”

 

“Fascinating,” says Bow. “And you like her?”

 

Adora’s back straightened, and she makes an affronted noise. “I so do not like her! She works for the enemy!”

 

“Why are you so obsessed about this?” Glimmer demands. She waves her arms at the rest of the group. “Am I _really_ the only one who thinks this is _weird?_ ”

 

“You practically haven’t stopped talking about her in three days,” Bow points out, ignoring Glimmer. A grin is sliding over his face. “You obviously like her.”

 

Adora scoffs. “I do not.”

 

The bell over the door jingles as a few customers walk in, signalling the beginning of the dinner rush.

 

“Oh, would you look at that! Customers,” Adora says gratefully. “Let’s not talk about this ever again.”

 

Bow only smirks.

  
_____

 

Adora bounces on her heels. _Focus_ , she tells herself, _focus_.

 

Perfuma is stretching out her arms, and then she holds up the bat, waiting for the pitch. Her face is set in concentration. The pitcher rears back, then pitches the ball––Perfuma slaps it with the bat, making a satisfying _CRACK_ ––she’s flying towards first base and Adora dashes for second. Her legs are eating up the space between the bases; her foot taps the base and in front of her, Glimmer is still running, so she does too.

 

As she’s running, focusing, forgetting about everything else, she happens to glance up in the stands, and for a second she thinks she sees––no, it can’t be her. Adora hits third and falters, almost tripping.

 

“You good?” asks the third baseman. Adora nods briskly. She’s fine. She caught herself.

 

She cranes her neck, looking up in the stands, where she thought she caught a flash of brown hair––and sure enough, there she is. Catra from Domino’s. _What is she––CRACK!_

 

The next batter has hit the ball, but Adora isn’t ready. She’s already lagging seconds behind––she curses and starts to run, zeroing in on home base. She skids past it and stops, looking up at the stands again.

 

Catra is watching her. Adora flushes and looks away, back down at the game. Next Perfuma is making her way home, and then they get their third out and the teams are switching. Frosta sets up on the pitcher’s mound and Adora tries very hard not to let her attention drag its way back into the stands.

 

They win, of course, 4-1, because the other team sucks. Or maybe the Regals are just that good.

 

“Excellent job, Adora!” Perfuma exclaims as she and Glimmer come up for a hug.

 

“Hey,” says Adora, “not so bad yourself!” She looks up, scanning for her friends. Bow is racing towards her and Glimmer, and then she sees Catra, behind a girl with enormous purple pigtails––Perfuma’s friend, Entrapta; Adora has met her before.

 

“Entrapta! You made it,” Perfuma says, walking over.

 

“You were amazing,” Entrapta says eagerly. “Who knew you could calculate the best angle at which to hit the ball so quickly and efficiently?”

 

“Er,” Perfuma says, a little nonplussed, “yes. That is what I did.”

 

“This is my friend Catra,” Entrapta says, gesturing towards her.

 

“Wonderful to meet you!” says Perfuma, but Glimmer and Bow both look over at Adora, stunned. Adora has no response––she’s staring at Catra, who’s staring right back at her. If she didn’t know better, Adora would say Catra’s face looks a little redder than usual.

 

Adora opens her mouth to say something, and what comes out is, “You! You have a lot of nerve showing your face here.”

 

Everyone looks at her, startled.

 

Catra smirks, and Adora sees the playfulness sparking in her eyes. “Is this game not open to the public?”  
  
Adora backtracks. “Uh. I didn’t know you went to Etheria U,” she says.

 

“Well, I do,” says Catra, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers on her elbow.  
  
“We met through my friend Scorpia,” Entrapta says. “She was just coming with me to support Perfuma. Is something wrong?”

 

“Catra works at Domino’s,” Glimmer explains to Perfuma, who looks considerably more confused than everyone else. “She and Adora delivered pizzas to the same building.”

 

“Oh!” Entrapta exclaims, her eyes going wide. “ _You’re_ Pizza Hut gir––mmph!” Catra has clapped a hand over her mouth.

 

“Hey, Glimmer, Perfuma,” says Bow, poking them both, “remember that thing we were going to go do right now?”

 

“What thing?” says Glimmer, but Bow glares at her. “Oh! Yeah, that thing. Come on, Perfuma!”  


Perfuma looks confused, but then she nods. “ _Ohhh!_ _That_ thing. Entrapta, why don’t you come with us?”  
  
“This is extremely cryptic. I can’t help but be intrigued,” says Entrapta excitedly, and she follows as Bow practically drags the others closer to the stands.

 

Catra looks uncomfortable; she’s fidgeting with a pin that she’s just removed from her belt. “So. You, uh… play baseball.” Her eyes skim over Adora’s hat, then down her uniform.

 

“Yeah,” says Adora. She kicks at the ground with her shoe. “And _you_ have a life outside of Domino’s.”

 

“Um. Duh,” says Catra. She quirks a smile. “You’re weird, you know that?”  
  
“I get that a lot,” says Adora. She can’t tear her eyes away from Catra’s. She still can’t believe they ran into each other, _here_ . Again. “Did you enjoy the game, at least?”  


“Yes,” says Catra way too quickly. She seems to realize how fast she said it, and she blushes. “I, uh. Really like baseball.”  


“Oh. Cool.” Adora bites her lip. She really doesn’t know what else to say, so she narrows her eyes. “Having fun working for the dark side?”  
  
Catra rolls her eyes, lifting her hands up towards the sky. “Oh my God. You have a serious problem.”

 

“Pizza Hut,” Adora insists, clapping her hands for emphasis. “It’s a way of life!”  
  
Catra laughs. It’s a surprisingly cute little sound. Adora wants to hear it again. “Whatever, Adora. See you around.” She gives a little wave, and turns to go.

 

“Yeah. Bye,” says Adora, still slightly stunned. And then Catra is gone.

 

Adora scratches the back of her neck, dazed.

 

She happens to look down at the ground and sees that Catra has dropped her pin.

  
_____

 

“Catra, you know how Shadow Weaver feels about you sitting on the tables,” Scorpia points out nervously as Catra makes herself comfortable.

 

“Pssh, Shadow Weaver doesn’t scare me,” Catra declares, waving dismissively with her arm. “Besides, I’ll just say I can see the customers better from over here.”  
  
“I don’t know, Catra, she doesn’t––” Kyle starts to say from behind the counter, but then he stumbles and drops the box of pizza he’s holding, spilling the contents all over the ground. Everyone groans simultaneously.

 

“That’s the fourth pizza this week, Kyle,” says Shadow Weaver irritably, sweeping into the room. A hush falls. Catra jumps, sitting up straight. “Your incompetence is rivaled only by Catra’s laziness. It’s a marvel I keep either of you around.” Her tone is cold and unforgiving, and Catra feels a defensive prickle creep up her spine.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” mumbles Kyle, bending over to start cleaning up the mess.

 

Shadow Weaver fixes her stony gaze on Catra. _Time for the hag’s favorite pastime_ , Catra thinks bitterly to herself. “I didn’t realize this was your living room, Catra. Are you sending me hints? Is that where you want to be right now, because if you don’t want to have a job, that can be arranged.”

 

“Whatever, Shadow Weaver,” mutters Catra, getting to her feet.

 

“What was that?” Shadow Weaver asks sharply.

 

“I said ‘Whatever, Shadow Weaver,’” says Catra louder, squaring her shoulders. _Maybe this is the day you finally get fired for real_ , says a little voice in the back of her head.

 

Shadow Weaver opens her mouth to say something cold, but Scorpia cuts her off with a nervous, “Uh, Shadow Weaver, could you show me how to work the register again? Silly me, I keep forgetting.”

 

Shadow Weaver rolls her eyes and goes to help, letting Catra off with a glare.

 

Catra breathes a sigh of relief. She might talk big game, but she knows she owes Scorpia for that one.

 

Shadow Weaver finishes her rounds and retreats into her office again, and the mood in the room lightens considerably. There are only a couple customers scattered around, but Shadow Weaver doesn’t like the part of the job that requires actually dealing with people, which explains her hasty retreat.

 

“Why do you antagonize her like that?” Kyle wonders from where he’s just finished cleaning up the fallen pizza (rest in pizza, fourth one this week).

 

Catra just glares at him. “Shut up, Kyle.”  
  
“Yeah, Kyle,” says Scorpia, nudging him. “You know Catra doesn’t like authority.”  
  
“Yeah, _Kyle_ ,” adds Entrapta savagely. Everyone starts.

 

“How long have you been sitting there?” demands Catra, snapping her gaze to the corner of the counter that Entrapta is currently occupying.

 

Entrapta blinks owlishly. “Well, this whole time, I guess. I do sort of blend into the scenery at this point, don’t I? Anyway, nice to meet you, Kyle.”

 

Kyle does an uncertain little half wave.

 

“Well, I, for one, can’t wait for Shadow Weaver to get busted for murder for something and taken away from this joint,” Catra says boldly, crossing her arms. Behind her, the bell rings as a customer enters the store. “The lady’s creepy, no? Makes you wonder what she looked like when she was younger, or if she came out of the womb as a decrepit old––”

 

“Catra.”

 

She goes rigid, startled that someone is talking to her. But the voice sounds familiar. Catra whirls around to face the customer, and––sure enough. Her mouth falls open. “What are _you_ doing here?” is all she can think to say.

 

Adora shuffles from foot to foot, looking a little annoyed. “I don’t like being here,” she says, as if that isn’t obvious from the two conversations they’ve had prior to this occasion, “but you dropped this at the baseball game and. I don’t know. It looked important.” She holds out her hand, shoving something at Catra, and she looks down.

 

It’s her pin. The two green arcs and the mark in the middle stare back at her, forming their fancy H. Catra flushes. “Is that my Horde pin?”  
  
“Your what?”  
  
Catra snatches it, embarrassed, and stuffs it in her pocket. “Nothing.”  
  
“Hey! Isn’t that your favorite band––”

 

“Shut _up_ , Scorpia!” Catra yells.

 

“Oh man, I can’t believe Catra would leave that thing behind, she _loves_ the Horde; they’re a little emo for my taste but I won’t be choosy about what makes Catra happy––” Scorpia starts rambling.

 

“Oh my God, shut _up_ ,” mutters Catra, refusing to look at Adora. But she can’t help it. She glances up, prepared to see her weirded-out expression, but Adora only looks amused.

 

“So, indie emo bands and baseball,” says Adora, catching her eye.

 

Catra scowls, but she can’t help the scowl from leveling into a smirk. “So, Pizza Hut,” she says, “and nothing else.”

 

Adora’s eyes widen and then narrow. “I am sickened to even have to stand in this establishment for more than twenty seconds.”

 

 _She’s so stubborn_. It’s cute, okay? Catra is a mature and reasonable person. She can admit to herself when a girl is being cute. “Do you have, like, a life and stuff? And like a personality? Or were you made in a factory to work at Pizza Hut, and the baseball thing is a cover story? I’m just curious.”

 

“Yes. That is the truth. The second one,” says Adora flatly, a hint of a smile quirking at the corner of her mouth. “And _you_ were made in a factory for 2004 emo girls.”

 

Catra squawks. “You know, like, two things about me! That’s a stereotype!”

 

“I mean. I feel like you’re not arguing,” Adora points out, crossing her arms smugly.

 

“You are so––ugh! Get out!” says Catra, waving her arms around in the air.

 

Adora wrinkles her nose. “Gladly. Enjoy your subpar pizza.” She salutes, then waves over at Scorpia and Entrapta––ugh, that’s awkward, she doesn’t even know them, which means they’ve been staring at Catra and Adora _this entire time, come ON, guys_ ––and heads for the door.

 

She pauses before she gets outside, then turns around and yells, “Hey! Pizza Hut––where it’s at.” Adora points knowingly at the customers, winking at the ones who make eye contact. They look around, confused, and Adora ducks out.

 

Catra thinks she might be having a stroke, so she puts her hand over her heart. You know. Just to check. It’s hammering away in there like normal. Typical heart things.

 

She turns around to go back to the counter, smoothing her face into its usual bored expression, and gets looks not just from Scorpia and Entrapta, but _stupid Kyle_ , too. UGH.

 

“What are you looking at?” she snaps.

  
“Neither of us said anything,” said Entrapta, looking from Scorpia to Catra and back again. She seems to realize the word she chose was “neither” and adds, “Oh, and Kyle, too.”

 

“You don’t need to include me in your conversations if I’m going to be an _afterthought––”_ Keith whines from the corner, but Catra interrupts him.

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, “and that’s not what’s happening.”  
  
“Okay, Catra,” says Scorpia, shrugging. “Whatever you say.”

 

“I am _not_ ––”  


“Still talking about her?” prompts Kyle.

 

Catra’s mouth opens, then snaps shut. There’s a moment of stunned silence.

 

“Shut up, Kyle!” “Yeah, zip it Kyle, no one cares.” “Can it!”

  
_____

 

“Are you being vigilant, Mermista?”  
  
“Oh, yeah. Totally,” says Mermista, turning a page in her magazine.

 

“Mermista,” Adora scolds.

  
“Just a sec.” Mermista finishes reading and looks up at her, eyebrow raised. “Can I help you?”  
  
Adora rolls her eyes. “You know what? Never mind. Just go back to what you were doing.”

 

“Please stop bothering me for no reason. I’m very busy,” Mermista says, turning another page.

 

Adora snorts as she preps the ovens. The bell jingles, signalling a customer entering.

 

“Hello, dears,” wavers a familiar voice, and Adora looks up.

 

“Hey, Razz!” she calls happily. “What’ll it be? Same as usual?”  
  
“Two orders of garlic knots. And a plate of French fries, please,” says Razz, coming up to the counter. Razz comes in often and always orders the same thing. Adora always gives the same response:

 

“We don’t have French fries, Razz.”  
  
“Oh. Just the garlic knots, then, please.”  
  
They have never served French fries and never will, but Razz doesn’t ever seem to have gotten this memo. Adora doesn’t mind.

 

“I’m going to take the deliveries,” says Adora, picking up the stack of pizzas on the back counter. “Mermista. Can you handle this?”  
  
“Yeah, go ahead,” says Mermista, not paying attention. Adora sighs. She’ll have to trust her to hold down the fort. Mermista does her best work when no one’s around to ask her to do things, after all, so Adora is mostly sure she’ll be fine.

 

Adora heads out to the car, happy to get out of the store for a little while to make the deliveries. This is her favorite part of the day.

 

She stops at each place, dropping off pizza after pizza and getting heartwarming smiles or curt thanks in response, and is ready to wrap up her day when she arrives at the final house with the last pizza of the night. Adora is dreaming of going home and curling up with a blanket when she sees another car parked in the driveway.

 

It’s a beat-up Mazda with a Domino’s sticker stuck on the back.

 

Adora freezes.

 

Okay, first of all, what person would even order two different pizzas from two different stores?!

 

She feels a little jolt of righteous pride come over her as she gets out of the car. If it’s Catra again, she’s gonna––well, she doesn’t know what she’ll do, but it’ll be something.

 

When Adora walks up to the door, she sees that Catra is already there, staring at her with a confused look on her face.

 

“Well?” says Adora, a little sharply, pointing to the door. “Did you ring?”  
  
Catra frowns. “Why are y––” she stops, scoffing, and turns away again, punching at the doorbell.

 

They stand there in awkward silence for a few minutes, hearing footsteps, and then a woman opens the door to the house. She looks delighted to see them both there. “Hey!” she says. “How much?”

 

Adora and Catra tell her their respective prices, and the woman pays for the pizza, smiling to herself the whole time. When the transaction is done, she winks at the girls and said, “I always wanted to order two pizzas from two different places at the same time. Just to see what would happen. I thought you might fight to the death or something.”

 

Adora barks out a laugh, and Catra offers a slightly more amused grimace than usual. The woman says goodbye, and they’re left standing on the doorstep.

 

“Bizarre,” says Catra, already turning to walk away.

 

“Hey,” Adora calls, stopping her. She doesn’t know why, and her brain reminds her of this when Catra turns around to look at her. Her heart starts to pound in her chest, because Catra’s dark eyes are locked on hers and they seem to almost sparkle in the moonlight… Adora shakes herself out of it.

 

Catra is still waiting for her to say something. Adora’s mouth is dry. She opens it to speak, and what comes out is, “Wanna race?”

 

Catra’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. She turns to face Adora fully, crossing her arms. “What?”  
  
Adora clenches one of her fists, committing to it. A competitive fire is already sparking to life in her stomach. “She said fight to the death,” says Adora, “but how about a race instead? Less… life-threatening.”

 

Catra narrows her eyes, an amused smile playing on her lips. “I could beat you in a footrace half asleep, princess,” she says snidely, and Adora feels herself blush at the nickname.

 

“Prove it,” says Adora, and she’s off.

 

Catra hoots a laugh and darts after her, pushing herself to catch up. Adora’s limbs ache pleasantly––she hasn’t sprinted like this in a while, and she’s turning the corner, running around the block; no destination in mind, but she wants to drag out this time, running side by side with Catra.

 

Well, they _were_ side by side, but now Catra is pulling forward, and she sticks out her tongue at Adora, bounding ahead and out of sight. She’s so fast. Adora knows, logically, she might not be able to beat her.

 

But she’s not the type to back down from a challenge.

 

Catra rounds the final corner, in the home stretch back to their starting point, and Adora sprints faster than she ever has in her _life_ ––maybe she can’t make it, but Catra won’t either––she’s a foot or two behind and she launches herself forward, tackling Catra to the ground.

 

Catra makes a startled sound of complaint, but she’s laughing too, even as they hit the grass. Adora rolls, absorbing the impact, so that Catra ends up on top of her.

 

“I win,” says Adora, and maybe her voice comes out a little breathless but it’s from the running; it’s from the running, she tells herself.

 

Catra leans forward over her, eyes crinkling. “Neither of us made it back.”  
  
“I know,” says Adora, still triumphant.

 

Catra scans her face, her own expression guarded, but then she grins wide, and Adora feels the breath get sucked out of her all over again. “Rematch?” she asks.

 

Adora really, really wants to say yes. “I can’t,” she makes herself say instead, but she can’t keep the remorse out of her tone. “I have to get back to the restaurant––I still have to close up, and then I have a test tomorrow…” she’s rambling, she knows, but she _really_ doesn’t want to leave so she needs to remind herself why she has to.

 

Catra rolls off and gets to her feet, looking only slightly disappointed. “Oh. Okay. Uh, need a hand?”  
  
Again, Adora wants to say yes, but she really doesn’t know what will happen if she lets herself touch Catra’s hand, so she says, “I’m good,” and stands up on her own. She tucks her hands in her pockets, almost painfully awkward. “See you around?”

 

“Yeah,” says Catra, taking a step back. She’s still watching Adora, and God, she always looks at her like she’s _scanning_ her, like she’s figuring out what she’s thinking and how it changes every second. Adora is fascinated by it––why does she do that? Where’d she learn to study people like that? “See you around.”

 

Adora feels her heart stutter to a stop in her chest, watching Catra turn and head for her car. Once she gets in, Adora spins around and heads for her own car, her heart suddenly picking up into overdrive again.

 

She slides into the driver’s seat and sits there, watching Catra’s Mazda disappear around the corner, and tries to breathe, tries to regain her composure.

 

Okay.

 

Bow might’ve been onto something when he said she had a crush.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! The second one is all outlined and will be coming soon. 
> 
> You can find me @shera-sparkles on tumblr! Let me know what you think, comments, suggestions, feedback, anything! 
> 
> Have an excellent day :)


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